I Can't Make You Bleed If I'm Alone
by BryonieAnne
Summary: Johnlock Songfic to the song Arms by Christina Perri. Starting in ASIP when they meet, from Sherlock's perspective, up to the dreaded Reichenbach Fall. Reviews are welcome and cherished!


_**Hey everyone! Here's the first chapter to a story I'm going to be working on. The italicized parts at the beginning are from a song, Arms by Christina Perri. It starts in ASIP and will end in TRF, but as of now it won't have much on the parts in between. Please let me know what you think, and if I should continue (although I might anyway :) )**_

* * *

_I never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart  
but you came around and you knocked me off the ground from the start._

Sherlock Holmes fiddled with the knobs on his microscope. The small drop of blood got more and more out of focus as he twisted and turned the dials. He grunted; he'd barely been paying attention to his experiment. He'd pricked his finger half a dozen times before finally poking where he should to get the most amount of blood, and now he wasn't focusing on the small moving cells inside the droplet.

He drummed his fingers on the table. He'd been wasting away his time here at Bart's, experimenting and collecting data. It had been exactly 2 months since Lestrade had contacted him with a case and he was starting to get rather anxious. Sherlock sighed inwardly. When would Lestrade finally admit that he needed the consulting detective? It was obvious.

Sherlock had returned to his blood experiment when the door flew open. Sherlock glanced up and saw timid Molly Hooper standing in front of Detective Inspector Lestrade.

"Oh, hullo Sherlock," Molly said in a small voice. Sherlock barely noticed, he was too busy containing his joy that Lestrade was consulting him. After all, what was a consulting detective without consultations?

"Listen, Sherlock, I've got a bit of a rubbish case right now. You'll probably call me an idiot, but I'm just not getting anywhere. All the alibis check out and I didn't know where else to turn."

Lestrade handed him a few pictures of the crime scene, and explained the crime as best he could. He left out a few important parts accidentally, which earned him an insult from Sherlock.

Less than two hours later, Sherlock had finished his analysis and was doing a quick experiment to cement his deductions when the door, once again, flew open. He looked up briefly and noted that Mike Stamford had returned with a possible flatmate. He'd spoken earlier about a flat he'd liked down on Baker Street, but that the rent was a bit too high for him alone. He'd also remarked that he'd be a terrible flatmate.

Stamford moved into the room and Sherlock got a good look at the man behind him, who was saying a few words. He was short, close to forty, an invalided army doctor who was looking for a flatshare. Excellent, Sherlock thought, he will do perfectly.

Sherlock watched the army doctor limp into the room, and paid much attention to his leg. He must have been shot while abroad and thus been invalided; but his leg didn't retain the bullet. Shoulder? Probably. He leaned on his cane but didn't ask for a chair to sit on. Ah, so his limp was psychosomatic. He had an intermittent tremor in his left hand, probably due to some form of PTSD.

He shook his head out of his daze in time to hear Stamford introduce the man as a Doctor John Watson. Sherlock nodded and stepped away from his microscope. He'd been absolutely right, as usual, in his deductions and would text Lestrade immediately. He pulled out his phone and checked the bars. None.

"Mike, can I borrow your phone? Mine has no service up here." Sherlock was losing patience with the two men staring at him and wished to finish the matter quickly. He vaguely heard Mike say something about the land line. Sherlock grimaced. "I prefer to text."

The army doctor, John, pulled his own mobile out of his pocket and held it out to Sherlock. "Here, use mine."

Sherlock walked over to him slowly. "Thank you." He noted and stored every bit of information about the mobile phone he found useful before quickly sending out a text to Lestrade. _If the brother has green ladder, arrest brother. – SH_

He spoke then, as he handed back the phone. "Afghanistan or Iraq?"


End file.
